Ill
by edka88
Summary: Christine caught a nasty cold...


Thanks for all of my reviewers for their nice words, I love to know what you think!

I know this one is a very short story but I should have written my paper instead... I hope you'll enjoy it!:)

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**Ill**

"Christine! Lie back in this instant!"

"It's nothing but a simple cold, Erik!" She managed to rasp.

"Of course it is," he said dryly while handing her a handkerchief after a huge sneeze shook her whole frame.

"Thank you," she muttered devastated, then reclined to the headboard where he'd already piled up the pillows.

"Stay there until I bring you something for your illness."

"I've fallen ill several times in my life and I've never stayed in bed for one single day!" She protested adamantly though she had to admit it was far too tempting to sleep the day away instead of feeling miserable and blowing her nose in every single minute.

"Because I've never had the power to keep you in bed," he growled darkly. She wiped her nose miserably and she reminded Erik to a little girl, waiting for to be taken care of. She was looking at him with the same expression, too.

"Now you're my wife; I have the right to keep you in bed if I want to," he explained shortly before disappearing from the room. He never demanded his rights as her husband before and to do so now besides the concern on his face - though it was unnecessary, she could swear - made her smile. Her husband was so anxious sometimes.

What it was he wanted to give her, she had no idea. There was nothing one could cure cold, was there? The only thing to do was resting in bed while drinking plenty of tea. With a sigh, she pulled the sheets up to her chin and turned to her side; it was unbearably hot under the covers, however, if she tried to disobey him, he'd be furious. Maybe that unknown medicine wouldn't be so unwelcomed on her part, after all… Her head felt so funny…

When she opened her eyes again she saw her husband balancing a small tray in one hand while pulling a chair next to the bed with the other, and after placing the tray to the bedside table, he touched her forehead with care. Had she been asleep? She didn't realize she'd drifted to sleep in his absence.

"Drink this." He handed her a cup filled with some green, murky liquid; its scent wasn't pleasant the slightest and the floating little leaves on the top of it didn't make it more appealing, either. She dared not to venture calling it tea.

"I, uhm…" She looked up pleadingly at him but when she saw the unwavering determination in his eyes she looked down again. "I'm not sure I need this," she began timidly, eyeing the content of the cup uncertainly.

"Yes, you do. Now drink it."

She swallowed uneasily. "I fear I have to cancel our lesson today," she tried, smoothing out the wrinkles on the sheets.

"Yes," he answered, anger mounting in him judging from his tone.

"And I can't make the dinner you liked so much a week ago."

"No, I think you can't."

"And I wouldn't…"

"Christine, stop talking and drink it already!" He snapped now furious, watching with contentment how she complied finally.

A long shudder ran down her spine at the foul taste of that unknown something. Unfortunately, her hope was in vain that it would taste better than it looked like.

"Rest now, my dear." He took the cup from her hand then kissed her softly on the lips but she pulled back immediately.

"Don't!"

At her indignation he pulled back, too, and Christine caught a glimpse of that long ago seen hurt and humiliation in his eyes. She could have sworn that his hand lifted a little to cover his face as he used to do sometimes at the beginning of their marriage.

"Are you that angry with me?" He whispered and she wished she'd have done nothing.

"No! No," she said hastily, relieved to find that her words ended the fight within him whether to hide from her or not. He didn't. "There is no need for you to catch it as well," she explained shortly.

"Nonsense! I never get ill." To demonstrate his statement, he leaned close again, waiting for her possible obstruction but when it didn't came, he kissed her again.

"Sleep now, Christine. You'll be feeling much better when you wake."

- o -

"Go to bed immediately!"

"Nothing's wrong with me."

"I said go to bed! Did you think that just because you're in the other room I won't hear you coughing?"

"I'm fine," he snapped and continued his way to the study when she rounded him and forced him to stop. "Don't be childish."

"You are childish," she retorted. "Your eyes are shining," she said as if it was further proof of her statement.

"With annoyance!"

"With fever!" She cried and forced him to return to their bedroom. "Stay in bed, at least today. Please."

"Fine." He yanked angrily the blanket over his legs. "Give me a book at least."

"You won't work, will you?"

"No, just give me a book already!"

Without a word, she whirled around and returned from the shelf with the required book in her hands. "Here," she handed it to him and he wrested the volume from her fingers.

"You're insufferable," she growled, not sure she wanted to say it aloud or not. When she looked up, however, she wished she hadn't said it; he was looking at her so utterly hurt, so apologetic that she couldn't help but feel guilty for her thoughtless words. "You know I didn't mean it _that_ way," she assured him hurriedly.

"Yes," he murmured but she wasn't convinced he believed his own statement. _Because of a couple of words…_

"You don't mind the company, do you?" She asked all of a sudden and before he could say anything she already settled herself next to him in their bed, resting one hand on his knee on top of the quilt. "Do you want me to read it for you?"

"If you want to…" He gave back to her the book again, brushing her skin during the process experimentally. She didn't pull away.

"I never got ill in the cellars," he muttered sulkily while she opened the book.

"Yes, it's the sunshine what made you sick, obviously; never mind that you insisted upon kissing your sick wife," she teased. All his answer was a loud huff but it couldn't deceive her. She ran her fingers through his thin hair lovingly, then clearing her throat, she began to read. Reclining to the headboard he leisurely started to trace the sleeve of her nightgown and soon she covered his hand with hers while looking up at him; he was looking back at her expectantly.

"Christine?" He asked her after she made a short pause in her reading.

"Hmm?"

"Would you bring me from that green medicine?"


End file.
